


Careless Whispers

by monalisafrowns



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monalisafrowns/pseuds/monalisafrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Careless Whisper is seriously like the sexiest slow jam song ever. And Ian has been playing it every night this week of the tour. And he is driving Brendon completely insane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careless Whispers

           Careless Whisper is seriously like the sexiest slow jam song ever. And Ian has been playing it every night this week of the tour. And he is driving Brendon completely insane. Ian looks so innocent and cute. But here on this stage he’s a fucking sex god while he plays Careless Whisper behind his head while thrusting into the air slowly. Brendon can hardly take it any longer. Ian finishes up and everyone explodes with cheering. Ian hands his guitar to a member of the stage crew as he unbuttons his shirt, now soaked with sweat. He takes a swig of water and takes the guitar back. The rest of the evening it seems as if Ian wanted to drive Brendon completely over the edge. He leaned his curly head against Brendon’s sweaty chest. Brendon held him close to play it up for the crowd, singing to Ian as he played. Brendon retreated to Dallon’s side of the stage frequently however.

 

            Back on the buss, Ian was back to his innocent, sweet self. He was shirtless, wearing only Transformers pajama pants. He sprawled out on the couch cuddling a pillow. His eyes were fluttering open and shut, fighting off sleep. Spencer had lost his battle to sleep and went to his bunk already, snoring loudly. Dallon made sure he was awake though. He was currently on Skype with Breezy and Amelie, laughing about something silly Amelie had said. The chorus of noise is the only reason Ian hadn’t passed out yet. He groaned dramatically, receiving a glare from Dallon.

 

            “Go to your bunk and sleep if you’re gonna complain.”

 

            “But Spencer’s snoring.” Ian whined.

 

            “Then go to the lounge.” Dallon retorted dismissively.

 

            Ian sighed, peeling himself off of the couch. He wasn’t going to further disrupt the Weekes family time. Breezy would kill him. He trudged past the bunks where Spencer was indeed snoring like a bear in hibernation. The curtain of the back lounge was partially open, giving a view of Brendon bobbing his head along to soft music in the background. He looked up when Ian pushed through the curtain, closing it behind him.

 

            “Hey. Whatcha doing back here?” Ian asked sleepily.

 

            “Relaxing. I’m not really tired yet. What about you?” Brendon shrugged.

 

            “I’m tired. Spencer’s snoring in the bunks and Dallon kicked me out of the front.”

 

            “Come here to pass out then?”  
  


            Ian nodded, yawning. He flopped onto the cushioned couch, resting his fluffy head on Brendon’s open lap. Brendon’s breathing hitched. Ian snuggled into his lap, hot breath tickling Brendon’s inner thigh. Brendon cautiously placed his hand on Ian’s exposed hip. He moved his thumb in small circles when he relaxed a little. Ian sighed contently, squirming a little under Brendon’s touch. It took Brendon a few seconds to register that Careless Whisper had been playing as background noise. Ian was tapping his fingers along Brendon’s thigh, skilled fingers that play the song from memory. Brendon tensed up. Ian didn’t notice at first.

 

            “I think the fans really like this song.” Ian said, barely audible.

 

            “Hm? Oh. Yeah. I think so too.” Brendon replied, totally zoning out of the situation.

 

            “Something wrong?” Ian muttered mouth against Brendon’s thigh.

 

            “Nothing’s wrong. All good.”

 

            His voice told Ian otherwise though. Rushed and nervous. Ian noticed that part. Ian continued tapping his fingers, not even matching the music any more. He traced patterns, trailing up Brendon’s thighs. He kept at it until Brendon relaxed more, becoming slightly sedated from the intoxicating touch. Ian rubbed his hand across the crotch of Brendon’s jeans and _oh_ Brendon didn’t even realize he was kind of hard and there was Ian’s hand being all slow and sensual. Brendon closed his eyes. He heard his zipper being pulled down. He made a noise in the back of his throat when Ian’s warm hands grasped his semi-hard cock and coaxed it out of his jeans. Ian twisted himself so that he could hover over Brendon’s lap. He breathed hot and heavy over the head, until he licked across the slit.

 

            “Ian,” Brendon gasped.

 

            Ian slipped the head into his mouth and swirled his tongue around, gathering pre-come that had been leaking. Brendon felt himself getting harder in Ian’s hands. In Ian’s mouth. Ian bobbed his head up and down teasingly. He’d bring his hand up in gentle strokes until he met his mouth halfway up and repeated. Innocent Ian. Cute, baby, virginal Ian. With his sinful mouth on Brendon’s cock. Doing all the right things with his tongue.

 

            “Fuck,” Brendon groaned.

 

            Ian looked up at Brendon with big eyes. Brendon grabbed Ian by the hair and pulled him to his mouth. Brendon could taste himself on Ian’s tongue. That sinful fucking tongue. Brendon was touching Ian, hands everywhere. Not enough contact.

 

            “Too many clothes,” Ian murmured against Brendon’s lips.

 

            Brendon rapidly got rid of t-shirt with the assistance of Ian. Ian kissed along his jaw line, trailing down his neck. He nibbled on Brendon’s neck, leaving gentle bite marks. He kissed down his chest, stopping to dip in tongue in Brendon’s belly button.

 

            “Mother fuck.” Brendon grunted.

 

            Ian continued down, biting at Brendon’s right hip. Brendon arched his back, moaning softly. Ian stroked Brendon slowly, running his thumb across the slit. Brendon groaned. Ian moved his mouth from Brendon’s bruised hip to his swollen cock. Ian quickly went to work, taking nearly all of Brendon in his mouth. Brendon bucked upwards and Ian gagged a little but stayed down. Brendon tangled his hands in Ian’s curly locks, forcing more down his throat. But Ian was such a good boy, taking in every inch. Brendon was so gone already, almost forgetting there were others on the bus. He stuffed his fist in his mouth to suppress a moan about to surface. Brendon yanked Ian off his cock again.

 

            “Wanna fuck you now,” Brendon growled.

 

            Brendon stood up to remove his tight jeans. Once he got rid of them he began to rummage through the little storage cubby until he came across what he was searching for; lube and condoms. When he turned around Ian had disposed of the Transformers pants and was now lying casually on the couch stroking his hard cock sensually. Brendon tossed Ian the lube, smirking.

 

            “Finger yourself.” Brendon said nonchalantly.

 

            Ian uncapped the tube and squeezed some of the cool gel on his fingers. Ian sat back on the couch and spread his legs apart. He pressed a finger against his hole. He squirmed as his finger first penetrated him. He pressed the single finger in deeper, to get a feel for it. Brendon leaned forward to get a better view as Ian pushed a second finger in. Ian gasped, small whimpers spilling from his lips. Brendon stroked his cock languidly; absorbing all of Ian’s little gasps and moans of pleasure, every little twitch his body made when he hit the right spot.

 

            “Put in a third.” Brendon said, mesmerized.

 

            Ian obliged, pressing the third digit in slowly. Ian moaned, deep and low as he stretched himself further. A little bubble of heat began to form in the pit of his stomach. Ian moved his fingers faster. He bit down on his lip to keep from moaning loudly as he brushed against his prostate. Brendon stroked his cock faster, stepping in front of Ian.

 

            “Wait,” Ian gasped.

 

            “What is it?” Brendon questioned.

 

            “I wanna ride you,” Ian said breathlessly.

 

            Ian’s words went straight to Brendon’s cock. Ian stood up to allow Brendon to sit. He fell back onto the couch and splayed his legs apart. Ian straddled Brendon and positioned himself above his cock. Teasingly Brendon pressed the head just inside of Ian’s stretched hole. Ian whimpered and tried to push himself down but Brendon held him firmly at the hips.

 

            “Brendon, please.” Ian whined.

 

            “Please what?”

 

            Ian whimpered impatiently. Brendon knew what he wanted. He smirked to himself because he held this power of Ian.

 

            “You sure you want it?”

 

            Ian nodded frantically. Brendon let go of his hips and let Ian be impaled by his cock. Ian gasped loudly, and threw his head back. Brendon grunted, feeling Ian’s tight, hot hole engulf him. Ian started a rhythm, grinding his hips up and down slowly. Brendon places his hands neatly on Ian’s hips, more following his movements than guiding him. Ian began to move faster, his curls bouncing around his head. His mouth hung open as he gasped breathlessly. Brendon pressed his thumbs hard against Ian’s hips. Wanted them bruise. Little treasures for Brendon to admire whenever Ian took his shirt off during a show, glistening with sweat or when his pants began to ride low. Brendon thrusted upwards to meet Ian’s desperate bouncing. Soft whimpers spilled from Ian’s lips. He leaned forward bracing his hands on Brendon’s chest, his head buried against his neck. Ian breathed hot and heavy against Brendon’s neck, attempting to bit at him but failing. Ian was on sensory overload. Brendon deep and hard inside of him, making him so full. His left hand bruising his hip. And _oh god_ his hand wrapped around his dick, wrist flicking in time with his thrusts. Ian won’t be able to last much longer. And then Brendon runs his thumb across the head of his cock. Then Ian was coming, spilling white over Brendon’s knuckles. A string of breathy expletives melted into Brendon’s sweaty neck. Ian was in a state of pure bliss. So close to going under but not quite. Brendon’s thrusts became sporadic and suddenly he was coming, grunting through gritted teeth. Ian pressed a sloppy kiss to Brendon’s lips, collapsing against his chest. Brendon sighed, flipping them around so that he could pull out. He tied the condom and tossed it in the waste bin. He then collapsed next to Ian.

 

            “Fuck.” Ian whispered.

 

            “Yeah. Fuck.” Brendon replied.

 

            Suddenly Ian’s phone began ringing, Careless Whisper drifting throughout the back lounge. Brendon looked over at Ian raising an eyebrow and the two busted up laughing.

 

            “You and that fucking song, Crawford.” Brendon laughed.

 

            “What? It’s my sexy seduction song. Clearly it worked.” Ian smirked, wiggling his hips.

 

            He gave Brendon a wink as he answered the phone.

 

            “Hey Shane,” Ian laughed as Brendon threw a pillow at him. 


End file.
